The Reaper's Image
by Shadow-Ocelot
Summary: A tale of vengeance and manipulation 20 years in the making. The Umbrella Corporation has many skeletons in its closet, but its Spencer's own creation that will rise to destroy everything he's worked for. CH 2!
1. Reunions

**The Reaper's Image**

_Tagline_: They said no one survived the Ecliptic Express. They were wrong...

_Full Summary_: A tale of vengeance and manipulation that stretches over twenty years. After a long absence from Raccoon City an old friend of Wesker and Birkin's is ordered back to help them clean up the old training center. What none of them are aware of is that this is no coincidence. The great puppetmaster behind Umbrella has plans for them, but those plans backfire when Raccoon City goes to hell - literally - and the survivors of the old trio set out on thier own quest. For one: vengeance. The other: power. Together, an unstoppable team of destruction.

_Author's Notes:_ Oh my god. I'm alive. Its been a while, and I know this isn't an update to one of my Metal Gear fics, but I've always wanted to write some RE stories. Reaper's Image kind of wrote itself up from a small little one-shot idea to the tale of friendship and betrayal it is now. And to begin, yes, there is an original character in here, but I do my best to keep with the original storyline as much as possible. Maris Lacey was developed to be an off-camera character, someone who could truly exist in the RE storyline. I don't intend to change any events dealing with the games at all, just perhaps add more to it.

The story will be broken into two parts. The Present, which begins in 1998 and goes on from there and The Past, which begins back in 1976 when our fateful trio first met and continues on until it catches up with the Present storyline, therefore filling you in on how it all worked out. I love speculating about Birkin and Wesker and what they were like at the training center, as well as what it was like at the facility. So, I hope you enjoy. Chapter One follows in 3...2...1...

* * *

**CHAPTER ONE  
**

_**Reunions**_

* * *

_How much is real? So much to question_

_An epidemic of the mannequins contaminating everything we _

_thought came from the heart – but never did right from the start_

_Just listen to the noises – null and void instead of voices –_

_Before you tell yourself it's just a different scene_

_Remember it's just different from what you've seen_

_I'm looking at you through the glass,_

_Don't know how much time has passed_

_And all I know is that it feels like forever…_

"_Through the Glass" – Stone Sour_

**Raccoon City, 1998**

"Are they _sure_ this is the best hotel in town?" The whiny voice of her managerial assistant was full of disbelief as she leaned over to whisper in her ear. The snooty tone held the telltale signs of her upscale pedigree. She had probably never had to want for anything in her life, especially not a fancy five-star hotel.

Of course, neither had her boss. Maris Lacey had been born into the silver-spoon club herself, but had fortunately learned the diplomatic ability of pulling it out of her mouth every once in a while to speak. No one liked a snob for very long, unless you were another snob, and even then the threads wore loose from time to time. Maris had only been a teenager when she'd first experienced snob-weariness and she'd never been cured. However, it helped to have good breeding when working for a company like Umbrella, and when your father had been a loyal employee promotions were sure to abound as long as you had enough sense to stay ahead of the game.

"This is Raccoon City, Carmen, not New York City." Maris reminded the petite little brunette again. As far as the older woman was concerned Carmen Blake could have been naturally bleach blond; she acted like it most of the time. That particular sentiment often left Maris feeling irritated and wondering how a woman – and Maris used woman loosely with Carmen – such as her had ever gotten to the position she had. It either had to be family ties, political ties, or a list of sexual favors the length of Maris's arm. Somehow Maris felt Carmen probably lacked the talent for the latter. There was no proof of that, but it was just a gut feeling.

Young Ms. Blake rolled her eyes in a defeated manner and replied, "Well, that shouldn't be an excuse for a lack of proper accommodations. I can only hope that when the training facility is brought back online they'll improve."

"Perhaps." Maris told her, checking her watch once more while having an evil little private thought. _Perhaps for me, but I'm beginning to think I should request you be given quarters near the basement._ When she smiled at that Carmen smiled back, no doubt mistaking the act for a hopeful motion instead of the self-gratuitous satisfaction that it really was. "If you'll excuse me Carmen, I do believe I will retire for a while before we go to meet the others."

"Yes, ma'am, of course."

Maris nodded, readjusting her bag on her shoulder so she could press the elevator button. A nice rest after their long trip sounded excellent. Maybe a bath, some room service, and a trip down to the hotel bar and dining room before the meeting. _Lord knows I'll probably need it._ She thought, her features twisting into a mask of apprehension. How long had it been again? Five years, or was it ten? She had never wanted to return to this place. Her superiors had known that, but she supposed she understood the reason why, of all people, she had been called back to this god-forsaken township. She played their words back to her once more:

"_You were one of our most talented trainees Ms. Lacey, and we believe that out of our employees you would be the best choice to help us bring the old management training center out of its metaphorical ashes."_

She hadn't wanted to take the assignment, but in the end there hadn't been a choice. Her only hope was that once everything was operational again she could pass the facility over to Blake and return to her old post. Umbrella was a fickle entity, but predictable. She might have to threaten to quit and go elsewhere, but eventually she'd get what she wanted.

103-C.

Keys jingled and she heard the lock snap out of place. Maris left the stuffy hallway behind and closed the door behind her, resting her back on the beveled surface. After a few moments of blissful silence she forced herself to move. There was unpacking to do as well as papers to look over.

"No rest for the wicked." She cracked to the empty room. _And you'd know all about wickedness, Maris Lacey._

(-X-)

"Don't be so hysterical, Annette."

"I'm not being hysterical." Annette Birkin replied. Her voice wavered slightly in that tone that wives used when they were trying to explain something to their husbands but they refused to see reason. They'd been through this same conversation off and on for a few days and he still wouldn't acknowledge that anything out of the ordinary was going to happen. The fact that William was being sent back out to the old training facility was enough to put her on edge, but alone she might have moved on and attributed her trepidation to the memories of what had happened there. However, it wasn't just the new assignment that had her miffed, it was _Her_. "I'm just trying to—"

William smiled a gentle and reassuring smile, placing a finger to her lips and instantly quieting her. "I understand what you're trying to say, but I'm trying to tell you that there's nothing for you to worry about." He meant it, and she knew he meant it, but he still wasn't getting it.

Annette sighed and leaned back against the counter, her arms automatically crossing over her lab coat. "I still don't get how you can say that. Just because you want the past to disappear doesn't mean it does, and I remember how it was back then. You just can't throw all that away."

William Birkin shook his head, his smile vanishing. "Yes, yes you can, and I have. There's a reason they don't call us the three musketeers anymore. Its because the dynamics have changed." _And they have_. He told himself. The old trio that had taken the Umbrella Corporation by storm twenty years ago had disbanded. He only spoke to Albert anymore, and that was only when there was something business related they needed to discuss. Time changed things, and more than anything it affected the bonds between people. Their bonds had severed long ago. He remembered when and why clearly. For that reason he was sure that any past that had happened would be dead and buried, lost to memory only.

(-X-)

It was quite serene in the bar. Only light music drifted in the dimness, the soft melodies weaving a dreamlike surrealism through the room. He was on the hunt, and he was sure he'd find his perfect prey before too long. With unexpected grace he slid into one of the booths and waited. Twice he had to tell a waitress to leave him be. It had been in a nice manner, of course, he had a reputation to uphold. "Waiting for someone." He explained the second time around and that had been the end of the unwanted attention.

A good hour had passed with only an extravagantly packaged and overpriced bottle of water to keep him company. Then she had appeared. Time had not diminished her dark beauty, and by the look in her eyes had also failed to change her on the inside as well. She brushed long strands of raven black hair away from her face and back over her shoulder as she chatted with the bartender.

"Irish coffee," He heard her say as she pulled out a few bills.

"Starting early, aren't we, Mary, darling?" He gave her a Cheshire cat grin as he sidled up beside her, leaning one arm on the bar counter as he spoke.

She didn't even look at him when she replied, "out of all the people I know, you should know the best not to call me by that name."

Albert Wesker chuckled. "Easy, Mal. It's been a long time, and I wanted to just see if you were still that way or not."

"Old habits die hard, Albert." Maris said, finally twisting on her seat to look him in the face. She would have looked him in the eyes if not for those damned sunglasses. _Twenty years and he's still wearing those fucking things._ "And what is it your business what I consume anyway?"

"S.T.A.R.S. may be a special division, but I'm still an officer of the law."

Maris let out a derisive laugh. "Umbrella has a great sense of humor, don't you think?" She commented. "I mean, _you_, a policeman."

"Its not that funny." He told her, his lips in a tight, thin line.

"Of course it is. You just don't have a sense of humor is all." She politely nodded to the bartender as he set down her coffee.

Wesker changed the subject. "I see you're still addicted to your caffeine, although it appears you've turned it up a notch."

"Just today, old friend, just today." She sipped at her drink.

"William?"

Maris didn't answer, but her body language answered for her. She sat up straight, her back tensing as she took another sip to avoid acknowledging his question. Her eyes, usually such a vibrant deep aquamarine, dulled at the mention of the Umbrella scientist.

"Mal, it's been twelve years." He shook his head.

"Has it really?" Her tone wasn't too convincing, in fact it withheld tones of direct knowledge. He wouldn't be surprised to learn she dated her calendar with those dreaded days.

"I hope you won't let your pathetic mental state effect our assignment." He told her. It was harsh, but it was a truth she needed to hear.

"I'm not being pathetic." _Prick._

"Annette's been on the warpath since she found out you were part of the reclamation team."

"Really?" Maris seemed to brighten up on that note. She'd always hated the woman, and to hear she wasn't too happy made things a little more tolerable.

"She even cursed when the rumors got around that you were going to stay on and take up Marcus's old post." Albert said evenly. "Head of the Management Training Facility, huh? You've definitely come a long way from the bratty little teenager who wanted to break all the rules."

"Look who's talkin' blondie." Maris smirked.

Albert laughed lightly, a wicked smile playing over his features. "But some things will never change…"

(-X-)

Maris met back up with her glorified secretary after she and Albert had parted. He had left earlier than she had, almost disappearing into the shadows as he went. She had always been amazed with his ability to sneak around she swiftly and gracefully. It was almost as if he'd been crafted just for that purpose. When she'd heard he'd transferred to the investigation bureau she thought it was about time. Scientist though he was, his inborn talents lay elsewhere.

"—and there will have to be a complete overhaul of the electrical system." Carmen was saying when Maris snapped out of her thoughts.

"That sounds expensive." _Its_ _not that Umbrella can't afford it, but that's a lot of unnecessary work, and more time I'll have to spend in this shithole town. _

"It probably will be, but it will be better in the long-run. If one of those ancient wires shorts out it might cause a fire and we'll lose the entire building. It's cheaper to rewire now than rebuild the entire thing later, don't you agree?"

"Perhaps. We'll have an in-company electrician take a look. Find me a list of decent contractors."

"Yes ma'am." Carmen took a note down in her little notebook she carried around.

Maris smoothed her suit-jacket one more time and checked her skirt before she led Carmen inside the Umbrella office building. It was almost time for the meeting between the parties in charge of the reclamation. She'd had two Irish coffees and a shot of vodka and she was still too clear-headed to ignore the unpleasantness of the whole ordeal. _Why did they have to insist I work with William; they must have realized the disaster they were creating._

"Anything wrong, boss?"

"No, Ms. Blake." _Keep your nose out of my business, Miss Blake._ The last person she needed realizing that something was amiss was the rumor-queen. More than once Maris had sworn that Carmen should have had a weekly byline in a bad gossip magazine.

"The others are already here, Mrs. Lacey." The woman at the front desk said. "They're expecting you."

"I never married." She answered without thinking.

"What?"

"Never mind." Maris shook her head. She didn't know how many times it would take people to get it through their heads she wasn't a missus. "Conference room E, right?"

"Yes." The secretary nodded.

With a sigh Maris said, "_Great_."

(-X-)

"_Maris Lacey has arrived._" The voice over the intercom said. William Birkin's head immediately came up from the papers he was going over. It had been so instinctual he had no chance to stop it. He cleared his throat and went to straighten his collar in an attempt to hide the action. In mid-movement he froze as he noticed Albert was watching him.

"Yes?" He tried to sound annoyed instead of guilty, but he had always been a bad liar.

"I saw that."

"You see everything." William muttered, "You always have." _I swear to God, sometimes I think he's omniscient. _

"Its one of my many gifts. Its like you with your science and Maris who—"

"—is now in the room and would appreciate the personal chatter to cease."

Both men's heads swiveled over to her. There was a moment where time stretched and seized. It was not lost on any of the three that this was a significant occasion; the last time they were all together was Birkin's wedding. And Maris had only attended that long enough to sign the registry, stir up some trouble, and leave.

"You look very nice, Mal." William said. And she did. He couldn't ignore that. She was beautiful in a way that few could be beautiful. If he didn't know better himself he wouldn't have believed that she was his age.

"Your tie's crooked, William." Maris replied.

"Oh…" His hands automatically went to fix the problem, fidgeting with the long thin cloth like he'd never seen one before.

"…" Maris shook her head and sighed, reaching out and pushing his hands away. In seconds her nimble fingers had already re-tied and smoothed it down. "You never could tie one of these right. Isn't Annette training you properly?"

William tensed and Carmen, sensing that a chilly topic had been breached, smiled warmly at Wesker, "Agent Wesker, hello! Carmen Blake. I'm Maris's assistant." She reached out her hand, attempting to balance the papers and folders in her arms.

Albert gave a cold, but amused smile and took it. "Hello, Ms. Blake. Let me help you with those." He was allowed to lighten her load and showed her to a seat at the conference table. "How are you liking Raccoon so far?"

"The hotel is awful, but I suppose its pretty here." She gave him a coy grin, "and if all the views are as good as this I might stick around for a while."

Maris almost retched. _She's flirting with him. Jeez._ It wasn't like she hadn't seen this before. On the contrary, their entire friendship she'd had to watch the lesser females throw themselves at his feet. Unfortunately if she thought about it long enough she might have to admit if it wasn't for sweet little William she might have done the same thing all those years ago – so she didn't try to think of that too much. The mere thought of her lusting after Albert Wesker was too much for her mind to comprehend.

"Well, I might have to give you a private tour…of the city sometime."

_And he's flirting back. _It was a little too much of a déjà vu for Maris. She coughed and brought their attention back to she and William. "Perhaps we," she said, _and _**we**_ meaning you two, _"can work out tour dates some other time. We have many plans to cover in a short period of time."

"Yes," William agreed. "If we're to get things running smoothly we can't risk mistakes."

A lack of mistakes around Carmen might be too much to ask, but Maris could pray. The three standing took seats: Carmen across the table and just a couple chairs down from William, and Maris beside Albert. As she made herself comfortable she leaned over and whispered harshly in his ear, "You try to fuck my assistant and I _swear_ I'll ass-rape you with a chainsaw."

Albert looked more amused than shocked. "Always so colorful."

"Like a rainbow."

* * *

O.o Well, we're going to stop there. No need to put you through a boring meeting, eh? Read and Review, and all that good stuff.

Chapter 2 is almost finished, I just have a another scene to go and then I will probably post it.

**Next Chapter : Chapter 2 - 1976**

What does note-taking blond, a clumsy future scientist, and a sarcastic teen girl have in common? Absolute nothing, at least for now. Albert, William, and Maris' first day at the training center coming up.


	2. 1976

_Author's Notes:_ Well, I honestly didn't intend to go ahead and post this chapter.  I wanted to wait until I had Chapter Three complete. But I figured, what the hell.  This just means it might be a day or so until I get the next one out.  Although a small warning, I am starting a new job in the next day or so and might be away from my computer.  If it takes me longer, forgive me, but duty calls.

_Thanks:_

**FrontlineChaos **For the Alert.  Its nice to know someone's watching your stuff.

**Airfoce2009** For the Fave and the Review.  I'm glad you enjoyed it.  I always want my stories to be the best, especially my RE ones.  And yes, I'm going to be taking a look at your story very soon.

* * *

**CHAPTER TWO**

1976

* * *

_Images of broken light, which dance before me like a million eyes,_

_That call me on and on across the universe,_

_Thoughts meander like a restless wind inside a letterbox they_

_Tumble blindly as they make their way_

_Across the universe_

_Jai Guru Deva Om_

_Nothing's gonna change my world_

_Nothing's gonna change my world_

_Nothing's gonna change my world_

_Nothing's gonna change my world_

"_Across the Universe" – The Beatles_

**Arklay Mountains, 1976**

"Its enough to make one cry, is it not?"

A drawling male voice broke through Maris Lacey's determined concentration. She was only a couple chapters away from finally finishing the book she'd been trying to work on all summer. The majority of the reading had occurred on her journey to Raccoon City. The following train ride to her new 'school', Umbrella's Arklay Management Training Facility, had unfortunately yielded disappointment as the others had broken down into a boisterous excitement. The chaos hadn't died down until they were ushered off the train and through the facility into a large room, complete with a podium and heavy wooden desks able to seat at least two people comfortably beside each other. She'd found relief as her fellow trainees quieted down to a hushed chatter while they waited for the head of the facility to appear.

_Ah, sweet silence!_ She thought – until the young man sitting in front of her had turned around and spoken. She had sat at the back of the room for a reason, and now it seemed the best laid plans of Maris Lacey were all for naught. "Yes, _indeed_," she answered dryly, refusing to look up from her page in case it was just a small interruption, "it is enough to make one cry." Of course, she had no clue what the boy was talking about, but it didn't matter. Her own personal feelings on being interrupted happened to match up with his comment; why not agree?

"All of them, hand-picked because they're supposedly the best and brightest young minds Umbrella can find – and here they are, acting like little children at a carnival."

_Excuse me…_ She lifted one eyebrow and raised her head from her book to look at the man. A deep shuddering twitch rolled over her as she realized who was addressing her. "Francis, I didn't know it was you, hello." She attempted her best diplomatic smile, although deep inside she wanted a man-sized hole to open up and swallow him forever.

Francis Telford was the son of her father's close personal friend and one of the directors for Umbrella Corporation. Rumor had it his father had even worked personally for Edward Ashford for a while and had become quite amiable. Maris doubted that, but regardless of the truth the Telford family was still pretty close to nobility within the upper-class echelon, especially in Umbrella's nouveau-riche social circles. So although she would have preferred to tell him to screw off she had social code to uphold. However, that didn't stop Maris from harboring an almost innate hatred for the irritating little prick.

"Yes, I tried to get your attention earlier on the platform, but you didn't see me, and then I couldn't find you on the train."

"My apologies." _So that was _**you**_ yelling like a moron at me? Thank god I ignored it…_ "It's been quite hectic today, I agree." She looked around. "I haven't had much time to read my book." _Get the hint and go talk to someone else._

"Yes, yes," He motioned with one hand while brushing his other through his short brown hair, "there hasn't been much time for anything today. And there hasn't been one interesting thing at all. Rather dull day if you ask me… My god, and to listen to the incessant droning of those little flies—"

Maris's mind automatically shut out his rant. She knew he was discussing the "lesser-born" individuals in the crowd and she didn't particularly want to listen to that at the moment. _Let's see, chapter 15, page 352…_

(-X-)

_I'm late, I'm late, I'm late._ William Birkin's thoughts repeated into a mantra as he rushed through the corridors, trying to remember the directions to the classroom the new trainees were supposed to be waiting in. He'd been unceremoniously held up by one of the managers. Apparently there'd been a small issue with some of his paperwork and it'd taken nearly a quarter of an hour to fix it. Bureaucracy at its best; it was enough to make him already wonder if he was going into the right profession.

It seemed like forever before he managed to find the lobby and in turn the classroom off the first balcony overlooking it. He tried to throw on his breaks, but instead slid, his shoulder impacting with the thick wooden door. His face scrunched up into a winch, a burst of unpleasant, yet mild pain branched through his arm. The momentary collision faded quickly though and he rebalanced his stack of texts and notebooks in his arms. _Here goes…_

William nudged open the door and squeezed his way in, "sorry, sorry." He apologized, noticing more than a few of the trainees were looking up at the doorway in confusion. The last thing he had wanted was attention this early on in the game. He was never really one for social situations. Without thinking he tried to close the door with his foot, but managed to hit it just hard enough so that it slammed shut. Immediately he felt his face flush as a light chorus of laughter accompanied by irritated mumbling started up. His eyes dropped to the floor, avoiding the others' gaze.

The instructor was sitting on the edge of the platform in front of the podium. William was thankful he hadn't interrupted anything. "I'm sorry for being late." He told the man. His nametag read 'Pierce.' He proceeded to explain what had happened.

"Well, at least you're here on time." Pierce said, "it's a wonder anything gets done around here with those idiots in the office." The last bit was muttered more to himself than anything, but held a small note of an informative air. "Find a seat, Dr. Marcus shouldn't be very long now."

"Thank you, sir." William replied, and turned to find a seat. _This is already shaping up to be such a _**wonderful**_ day._ He mused, sarcasm scorching his thoughts.

(-X-)

_So much for reading_. Maris decided it just wasn't her day for completing the chapter, much less the book. First it was Francis with his arrogant dribble and then that dorky looking kid who managed to not only apparently test the strength of the classroom's door, but also make a lot of noise doing it. Yet she couldn't be too annoyed with him. He looked so lost and uncomfortable in this place. _Overwhelmed._ _That's the word._ She corrected herself mentally. In a way she could relate, but she'd been fending off that feeling since childhood so she'd had more practice. She'd bet her entire year's allowance that he was new blood.

That also meant he was fresh meat for the other kids, the one's who had family already working for Umbrella like herself. She felt a little sorry for him, and the fact he happened to look so young and vulnerable made it worse. His light brown hair seemed to fall in just the right length to frame his incredibly boyish features. That included a pale complexion with a gentle dashing of freckles. He was in for it – and bad.

One of the other trainees insisted on proving her right by finding the time to stick his foot out and trip him. Books and papers tumbled to the ground and the young man fell flat on his face. Maris felt a tremor of anger at this. It was not necessarily because she felt sorry for the poor kid, but mostly because there was a certain level of respect and honor to be upheld in certain families, and that wasn't one of the ways to do it. It rather made one look foolish and barbaric, something nobility was supposed to strive to rise above _not_ excel at.

Francis laughed. This didn't shock her at all.

She shoved her book to the edge of the table and without even looking around stood up and moved gracefully around to the aisle. The boy had already sat up on his knees, nursing a bloody nose from where he'd hit the floor so hard. He paused to look at her warily. With a sigh she reached down her hand. "You should really watch where you're going. _Some _people_,_" she glared up at the boy responsible for tripping him, "sometimes leave things lying about where they shouldn't."

The bloodied boy gulped, and after a moment of thought reached up and took her hand. "William Birkin." He introduced himself, trying to wipe the last bit of blood off his nose, but only managing to create a ruby smear.

Maris pulled out her handkerchief and handed it to him. "Maris Lacey."

(-X-)

_Birkin…?_

Everyone's attention was directed to the commotion in the middle aisle, so no one saw the way an older teen's head raised from his notebook. It was the first time he had chosen to take any apparent interest in any of the other trainees. Of course, his introversion was really a way to keep any unwanted interlopers from disturbing what he was really up to. His trusty notebook was now home to the multiple facts and rumors he'd heard about the other trainees as well as his own personal opinions. He was well aware of the dog-eat-dog competition present within the Umbrella Corporation and planned to start early setting up a system enabling him to keep track of threats, possible allies, and those just not worth paying attention to.

He'd done a little digging before arrival and found few who he truly believed could come close to threatening the procurement of a decent position within the ranks. One of those names had been William Birkin. He was a top-notch researcher even at his young age and was predicted to come out pretty well at the top of whatever he set his mind to. He'd have to keep an eye on him, although there might be one promising sign.

_'Accident prone. Slightly outcaste.' _ He jotted down in his notebook on Birkin's page. However, this small victory didn't mean anything. Dynamics were liable to change swiftly in this kind of setting once everyone realized that it wasn't necessarily the people you knew, but the amount of raw talent you had. Frankly Birkin had more raw talent than most of the crowd put together.

_Lacey, I've heard that name, too, somewhere._ He thought to himself, pen tapping against the paper rhythmically as he pushed his sunglasses back up. _Come on, Albert think!_ He proceeded to wrack his brain. The information was just beyond reach and apparently refusing to come to him.

Before he could dredge up any useful tidbits he was drawn back to the scene in the next aisle over. Maris Lacey had bent and was helping Birkin retrieve his scattered possessions. Meanwhile someone had come to stand behind Lacey and waited for her to stand back up before placing a hand on her shoulder. She instinctually spun around, a growl rising deep in her throat, "What the fuck do y—"

Albert Wesker actually smiled. It was the deep, self-satisfying smile of one that has just witnessed a big mistake and gained pleasure from the fact that it was someone else's. The way Lacey's aquamarine eyes widened into a near-comical mask of fright and absolute horror was priceless. He would have given anything for a camera in that moment.

Apparently she had thought that it had been one of the other trainees intent on causing more trouble and instead came face to face with the head of the facility. All of the girl's previous bravado and apathy towards the others disappeared. "I—I'm sorry, I… thought you… were… them." Her words even seemed to drain of power as she spoke, trailing off slowly into a mere whisper.

Dr. James Marcus regarded the petite girl wordlessly for a minute. His face was placid as he considered her. Meanwhile the room had grown deathly still, as if even the wood was holding its breath. Marcus was a man that demanded respect, and fear. His presence was paralyzing. "Maris Lacey." He stated, after taking a quick look at her nametag. "I see." Those two words were said like a realization that her name explained everything. Albert felt perhaps it should and it frustrated him he still hadn't figured it out.

Abruptly he reached out, took one of the books off the pile she was holding. "Yours?" He asked, then dropped it back after reading the title.

"No, Dr. Marcus, sir." She answered. She had seemed to gain her voice back, for then at least. "They're his." She motioned her eyes back to where Birkin was standing uncertainly.

"Ah, Mr. Birkin." Marcus said, sounding more pleasant at the scientist's presence, although his voice dropped to a slow curious tone to inquire, "What happened to your face?"

"I fell." / "Someone tripped him." Both Birkin and Lacey answered at the same time, which earned them contemptuous glances from each other.

"Don't let people walk all over you." Lacey hissed at the young scientist. Albert didn't imagine she was too happy for her efforts of helping him out being rewarded by his covering up what really happened. If it had been Albert he would have taken that chance to thin the crowd.

"Hm." Marcus made a low pondering noise as he walked passed the two. "Miss Lacey is right Mr. Birkin. However," when he arrived at the podium he turned and looked at her, "you did address me in an insubordinate manner and for that we'll speak after the meeting."

Maris Lacey's lip twitched. Perhaps she was attempting to stifle a scream.

Albert turned the page and wrote another note, '_Maris Lacey: Speaks before she thinks.'_

(-X-)

The meeting didn't last long. Marcus' opening speech lasted almost a half hour, after which the newcomers were given room assignments, roommates, and schedules. The real informative speeches would be given the next day as everyone was splitting off into their own specific sector of expertise. It was rather anticlimactic really, but William was thankful for the speedy departure. Five minutes stuck in that room was bad enough, much less thirty. The only good thing was that he grabbed the empty seat next to the girl who had helped him out. Of course, after Marcus had gotten onto her she grew silent and stuck to herself, fidgeting uneasily with the book on the table in front of her.

He wanted to say something to her, but he didn't know what was appropriate. 'Thanks for getting snapped at because of me' didn't quite cut it. But finally, when everyone was filing out of the room to head to their allocated spaces he spoke, "Maris?" Just her name, but he'd see her reaction and go from there.

It took her a moment to reply, but when she did it wasn't quite the reaction he would have hoped for. Her tone dripped with malice and controlled anger. "Do me a favor," She said, directing just her cold blue eyes on him, "and don't talk to me. I really can't afford any more trouble – especially on _your_ behalf. Take care of yourself from now on."

William didn't show it outwardly, but his soul flinched. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to—"

She just waved him off and shook her head as she climbed to her feet and stepped passed him towards the door. Her whole demeanor was tense with rage and she reminded him of a coiled snake ready to strike. He made a decision then and there to try to avoid her. He hadn't intended to make enemies this soon, but he supposed it was just another notch on his belt of mistakes. Dejected he pulled himself up and followed the crowd. He was just in time to see Maris stopped beside the stairs, the boy who had tripped him needling her.

"Good job, Lacey. If you want I'll help you go pack. Considering you won't be here for much longer." He laughed a loud, obnoxious laugh.

Maris smiled, and it was the kind of smile that only meant one thing: that somebody was going to be doing the opposite, real soon. Without warning she twisted her body and bent her arm. The boy cried out in pain as her elbow smashed forcefully into his nose. He was knocked backward and landed on his ass, still screaming and holding his face. She cracked her knuckles, and noticing blood on her hands leaned down and wiped them on the boy's vest. "No thanks, I think you'll be too busy in the nurse's office."

William watched as she walked away, awed by her actions. The entire time she'd held the same apathetic expression. As far as anyone was concerned, by that look she could have just been taking afternoon tea.

* * *

Well, our dear Maris has a tendency to try to get the last word in now doesn't she?  God, I don't know why but I love that scene.  How about you?  She sure had a temper back at that young age.

R&R as always.  I promise I won't bite.

**Next Chapter  
**We return to 1998 and the Arklay Facility where something dark moves beneath the surface, waiting...  
And our hapless anti-heroes begin to face their past.


End file.
